


Paint Me Any Color

by woopsforgotadam



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Briefs Family, F/M, Gen, Post-Cell Games Saga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-09 18:03:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woopsforgotadam/pseuds/woopsforgotadam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anyone can try, but no one can ever quite pin down the dynamics of the inhabitants of Capsule Corp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. everyone has regrets

**Author's Note:**

> Snippets of everyday life of at Capsule Corps. Unless stated other wise it takes place between end of Cell to pre-Buu.

Training shorts and a white towel were all he wore as he stepped out of the Gravity Simulator for his afternoon meal, despite the intense rays of the hot summer sun, his eyes didn’t squint at all. In fact, the Saiyan was much more focused on the food that no doubt awaited for him inside the building. It was a good work out after all.  

Only the sound of _familiar_ giggling was able to break his focus so with a bored look, Vegeta turned his head ever so slightly to see the Boy with his Mother. The source of the giggling was coming from both mother and son, but for what reason? Inwardly, he debated whether or not to check it out before letting his stomach decide rather than his innate curiosity. He only had one meal and a snack today, after all. Besides, there was no doubt Bulma would relay to him what the Boy did if it was of great importance. 

It was a shame he went, too, because he would find out during the meal just _what_ the pair were laughing at earlier. If he was aware of _it_ beforehand he could have saved himself the embarrassment that was Bunny taking a picture by not eating with them.  Trunks had, apparently, perfected the art of imitating his father’s scowl. The difference? It was _adorable_ on the two year old. Doubly so when the pair were caught doing it in sync. A sight that was forever commemorated on a camera developed by no one other than the mother of his child who was, although he wouldn't say it out loud, great at inventing objects that were difficult to destroy. 

(And the kitchen would get destroyed in the collateral damage.)

Bulma, however, found the entire ordeal utterly hilarious and mentioned something about it automatically being saved in some 'cloud'. 

Vegeta, on the other hand, just wanted to eat in peace and destroy the camera.


	2. survival of the fittest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle tactics can be successful outside of the war zone.

The older of the pair walked a few steps in front, his Father’s training helping outside of battle. Something the boy felt his father would regret soon. Trunks was fairly confident that _his_ plan was going to work, he was more worried about Goten’s part. So far the youngest Son was carrying the shaving cream with little incident.

(Operation Cream was a cliche, but the outcome was usually funny for the people who did it. And, honestly, that's all Trunks cares about. Besides, it can be an exercise in stealth, too.)

Stopping in the archway of the living room, Trunks spotted the Target and turned to his best friend to shush him for safety measures. Quietly, the Briefs son floated in the air as the dark haired boy rolled to the foot of the couch which effectively shook the shaving cream. Spraying it on the white gloved hands of the one and only Vegeta, Goten immediately closed his eyes and tip toed swiftly towards the archway, his heart racing against his chest in fear of a ki blast. When the coast was clear, he willed his eyes open and watched the scene with a nice front row seat as his best friend floated above his sleeping father.

Trunks, pleased that this has so far been a success, reached forward with the freshly clean feather duster in hand and tickled his father’s nose...and well, face. Just in case. He maintained his height and when Vegeta shifted he moved back a bit, smiling as he watched his father use his shaving-cream soiled glove to get to that tickling sensation on his face. Goten let out a whoop (as did Trunks) and then the Saiyan Prince’s black eyes shot open, his face covered with that distinctive stench. There was pure rage in those eyes as they glared at Trunks. The young boy's jaw dropped.

He hadn't thought of this part!

“ _Goten run!_ ” Trunks all but screamed as he tried his best to fly away. It was merely survival of the fittest now. 


	3. don't wike it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps parenting wasn't so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I'm Chris Evans trash and that's where the whole punch line of this chapter is. :') 
> 
> Also you can send prompts and stuff on my [Tumblr](http://vastiaisms.tumblr.com) if ya want. My laptop is acting up and I'm getting a new one in two weeks, but I will try to get them done!

“I don’t wike it,” It was amazing, really, if you looked past the layers and layers of utter annoyance that came rushing through the man after those four words were spoken. What was amazing? The fact that he hadn’t blown up the entire planet by now. What had gotten in Bulma’s head when she left the boy with him? Wasn’t she supposed to be some kind of genius?

“I don’t care.” Vegeta answered his son’s scowl with one of his own. A much better one really, with so many years of practice ahead of the two year old. However, it seemed that this fact went right over the toddler’s head. Instead of cowering however, Trunks blue raspberries and promptly picked up his obnoxiously childish green fork and threw it with a speed that no human child would have at that age.  
Vegeta, a trained fighter and the Prince of all Saiyans naturally was too busy being offended by the previous blowing of raspberries to completely dodge it. It merely his under his ear. It would have hit his face spot on had he not moved just in time to avoid such.

That, however, finally did it.

“Eat the damn food, Brat!”

“I DON’T WIKE IT!”

“I DON’T CARE!”

Forty minutes and two temper tantrums later and Trunks was finally eating his vegetables. All it took in the end was the threat of whatever that ‘spanking’ thing was Bulma used over the boy’s head and suddenly, Vegeta got the boy to eat.

He would have to ask Bulma what a ‘spanking’ was when she and her parents came home from that award ceremony.


End file.
